


Bait

by misura



Category: Shark (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, M/M, Pre-Canon, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-26
Updated: 2011-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>" - second place is death," Elliot finishes.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"And you chose death," Stark says. "Voluntarily."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait

It takes an effort not to smile when he sees who's waiting for him - _waiting for him_ \- in his brand-new office, complete with an engraved nameplate and a desk twice as big as he used to have.

"Sebastian."

Stark still looks pissed, like he'd just as soon murder Elliot as be civil to him. Elliot's a little surprised at his reaction to it. Rage has never been a particular turn-on for him. "Elliot." Possibly, he reflects, it's the knowledge that Stark would never allow himself to actually act on his desire.

"To what do I owe the - the honor of this visit?" It's a pleasure as well as an honor, frankly - Elliot's gained a few interesting colleagues, yes, one or two who might be good for a bit of sport on a good day, but nobody really ... challenging. Nobody like Stark.

Still, the pay's better. Elliot'll be able to make a name for himself in this place, once he stops being known as the man who backstabbed the unbackstabbable. That's worth a few sacrifices.

"You're damn right it's an honor," Stark snaps.

Elliot allows himself the smile he's been holding back, just to see if maybe that will be enough to send Stark over the edge. "I saw an opportunity, I took it." He allows his gaze to meet Stark's, then deliberately turns away. "You'd have done the same in my place, I'm sure." It's not even a complete lie.

At one point, when this was still a deal in the making, Elliot imagined having drinks with Stark, after. He imagined Stark wishing him good luck, congratulating him, even. All very civilized and dull.

The reality is so much better.

"I would never throw a trial," Stark snaps. " _Never._ "

Elliot shrugs. It doesn't need saying that he would, given a good enough reason. "Then I guess we're not as alike as you always liked to tell me."

Stark's right hand twitches. Elliot wonders what it will take to get Stark to actually touch him. He's twisting the knife, yes, rubbing salt in the wounds Stark barely bothers to hide with this front of anger, but it's not yet quite enough.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Stark steps towards the desk, and Elliot realizes that placing himself behind it may have been a tactical error. "First thing I taught you: trial is war - "

" - second place is death," Elliot finishes.

"And you chose death," Stark says. "Voluntarily."

"I didn't _lose_." The words slip out. Elliot licks his lips and reestablishes eye-contact. "I made a choice."

"You made a _mistake_ ," Stark says. "One that'll probably cost you your career."

Threats are familiar ground, at least, and for Stark, this is positively timid. Elliot chuckles. "Oh, really? Does this office looks to you like it belongs to someone whose career is over?"

"Big, useless, expensive desk, lots of empty wasted space, hardly any filing cabinets worth the name and is that a new suit you're wearing?" Elliot finds himself wanting to stand a little straighter. "It's very - what's the word I'm looking for here? Ah, yes. Tasteless."

"Amusing as this may be, I do have some work to do," Elliot says, smoothly walking around the desk as if preparing to see Stark to the door. "Thank you for your visit. Do come by again."

Stark actually takes two steps away from the desk along with him, before he catches on to the fact that Elliot is herding him. "Listen," he says, voice low and sharp enough to make Elliot feel slightly weak-kneed. "We both know I could bend you over that fancy new desk of yours and own your ass."

Elliot stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants and thinks of something, _anything_ other than Stark making good on his words. Before, he could have simply said 'yes' - now, things are trickier. "Is that so?"

Stark glares at him.

Elliot leans back a little, desk at his back. Its surface is nice and smooth - hard to hold on to, if the need arises. Not acquired with this specific scenario in mind, no doubt. "I think you're all talk, Sebastian."

Stark comes close, then. Elliot can tell. Close, but not close enough.

"However, if you want to put your money where your mouth is - " Elliot searches Stark's expression for a hint, a flash of desire, of wanting this as badly as Elliot wants it. " - you have my consent."

"Fuck you," Stark says, and this time, it's as good as a promise, so Elliot doesn't let it hurt his feelings.

 

"I see you in court, I'll destroy you," Stark tells him, after.

Elliot thinks it's probably a good thing he's exhausted. Otherwise, his reaction might have been slightly embarrassing. "I would expect nothing less."

He looks forwards to it almost as much as he looks forwards to being the one to destroy _Stark_ in court.


End file.
